


Undrunk

by VerdantMoth



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Drinking, Established Relationship, Guilt, Jotunn Loki (Marvel), King Thor (Marvel), M/M, Sibling Incest, relationship dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-06
Updated: 2019-04-06
Packaged: 2020-01-05 18:01:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18371237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VerdantMoth/pseuds/VerdantMoth
Summary: Thor holds him tight like if he blinks, Loki will fade back out. He tries to be gentle, but neither of them like the soft touches. Loki claims Thor in the dark, as he rides him. He doesn’t silence his cries, demands harder even when Thor sees the darkening skin.He kisses Thor like it’s goodbye, bites his shoulder to leave his mark.





	Undrunk

Thor sits on the edge of his bed, head pounding and a mouth full of cotton, watching the clouds billow outside his glass wall. 

Thundering rain pounds into the ground far below his room, and it screeches against his skull. He’s not cold though, not the way he thinks he should be with gooseflesh on his arms, his chest. 

Fingers like glass blades dance over the divot just above his ass, and Thor turns to see Loki, blue skinned and sleepy eyes staring at him.

Thor presses his fingers to his brother’s forehead, traces the scar-like markings about his brows. 

“It’s early,” Loki says like a prayer.

But the sun creaks through the dark clouds and there’s a kingdoms waiting. 

Thor isn’t drunk enough to abandon his throne. The bottle of blue liquor is empty anyway. 

—

Loki lingers too close to Thor, hand hovering above his shoulder and sharp smile trained on the council. 

This, Thor knows, is a battle of wills he cannot intercede in. 

But he does wish Loki would stop the snow if only because of the mess. 

“The Blue One should not be here,” an older man hisses. 

Heimdall catches Thor’s eyes, raises a brow. 

“What would Odin think?” Another whispers. 

Loki’s fingers tighten against Thor’s neck, to calm both their rages. 

The truth is, Thor too, has wondered what his parents would say about his arrangement. What advice or admonishment Frigga and Odin would bestow upon the brothers had they ever become aware of their relationship. 

Thor turns to his council. “Odin is not here. I have chosen Loki for his council, and for the royal blood he possesses. You’re forget he is a king in his own right. But that should not matter, his lineage. I have chosen him, and therefore he has earned a seat amongst you. Should this prove to be problematic,” Thor waves a hand. “You know where the exit is. Loki, take your seat now.”

He glances at Heimdall who offers him a small nod. Loki sinks, graceful and deadly, into the chair beside Thor. 

Thor reaches beneath the table to grip Loki’s hand, but Loki turns away.

—

Everyone on this planet knows the secret of what the Odinsons do behind Thor’s giant doors. Loki struts about in his leather pants, barefooted and bare chested, proudly bearing the bruises on his hips and the chain of bites around his neck. 

Thor asks, “I do not ask you to wear the Asgardian skin, but could you at least put on a shirt?”

Loki pets his cheek, “I am not ashamed.” 

—

But Loki is the one who waits until dusk has settled to fade into Thor’s room. His eyes shine and his breath is sweet as he settles himself above Thor’s hips. 

It always amazes the god of Thunder, how warm the ice-king’s skin is. Loki likes into his mouth tasting of summer wine and regret.

Thor holds him tight like if he blinks, Loki will fade back out. He tries to be gentle, but neither of them like the soft touches. Loki  _ claims _ Thor in the dark, as he rides him. He doesn’t silence his cries, demands  _ harder _ even when Thor sees the darkening skin. 

He kisses Thor like it’s goodbye, bites his shoulder to leave his mark. 

Thor traces each of the lines on the lithe body, wants to ask what they mean, but is afraid of the truth. 

Loki comes first, and Thor flips them, presses Loki into the sheets and  _ takes _ what his brother gives. “Mine,” he snarls into sharp shoulders, “MI’ve _ ,”  _ he hisses against his spine. 

Loki’s cries crack the skies, his fingers splinter the wood. When Thor comes, silent and drawn out, Loki cradles him against his chest. He digs his nails through  Thor’s sheared hair and whispers “Mine,” against his scalp. 

They never mean to fall asleep in a tangle of limbs and guilt.

They wake up as one, a single heartbeat, a stolen breath. 

—

Loki brings Thor cups full of amber liquid and blue drink and roses wines. He moves stiffly and Thor almost has it in him to feel bad, until his brother bends to fill his cup and uses it as an opportunity to kiss his lips. 

It’s brazen. Bold. Obvious, but Thor’s fingers slip through air when he tries to grab his brother’s arm. 

Thor misses the frowns the council give him as he tracks Loki’s movements. There’s a burn at the base of his spine, leftover from last night and reignited by his brother’s touch. 

He’s ready to be done here, and despite Heimdall’s look he ends the meeting.

—

Thor’s favorite place in all the universe is a sandy little square on the eastern shore of a country on another planet. 

He sips a dark and bitter beer, and the buzz is mild. The faintest tingling just behind his eyes. Loki isn’t here. Not yet, but Thor knows he’ll come.

He always does. 

This place is empty. Thor stretches naked in the soft sun, tries to remember how many glass bottles he’s had.

He hears the sand shifting to his right and he knows it means Loki has arrived. But he doesn’t open his eyes or move from his towel until the sun disappears behind his lids. 

“You’re hiding,” Loki says.  There’s a tinge of annoyance in his voice. 

Thor opens his eyes and he shocked by the pale flesh. “Seems I’m not the only one.”

Loki ignores the dig and eyes the small glass mountain beside his brother. “Haven’t you had enough?” 

“I’m still speaking clear, so no,” Thor laughs. He reaches for Loki who dances back a few steps. There’s hurt in his brother’s eyes.

“We had an agreement. Not here, Thor. No lies or glamours or pretenses here,” Loki’s skin ripples between blue and white.

Thor stands up and brushes the sand from his ass. “So stop hiding.”

The blue settles and Thor tugs at tight pants until Loki is flush against him. He leans down to kiss him, but Loki shoves. “Sober up.”

Thor knows why. This beach is the one place free if expectations.

So he does.

They spend two days naked on the beech.  They swim in lukewarm water. Watch the sun rise and fall.

Thor leaves bruises he hopes Loki will wear and Loki digs his fingers into Thor’s back and tries to hold onto this moment. 

—

A part of Thor wishes he could go back, could return the dark beer and leave the pulsing club. Wishes he could undo the moment where they were strangers in a foreign land, two men dressed in characters and not two brothers sinning. A larger part of him knows no midgardian alcohol could ever be blamed for what he did that night; what Loki offered and what he took greedily.

He takes the bottle of blue liquid, swallows it down, then turns on his blue brother and swallows  _ him  _ down. 


End file.
